


bittersweet poetry

by WolfyB



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7789276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfyB/pseuds/WolfyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm... sorry I wrote this.</p>
<p>I've never written Larry poetry before, but I can't say I won't do it again, seeing as I already have other ideas. Oops.</p>
<p>So, this is a poem (possibly from a set?) that is written about the love between my two faves, Louis and Harry, except it's sort of more an au wherein Harry is pining after Louis and writing dodgy poems in his journal. It's kind of a sad poem tbh.</p>
<p>I don't own 1D (or even, clearly, any talent).</p>
    </blockquote>





	bittersweet poetry

**Author's Note:**

> I'm... sorry I wrote this.
> 
> I've never written Larry poetry before, but I can't say I won't do it again, seeing as I already have other ideas. Oops.
> 
> So, this is a poem (possibly from a set?) that is written about the love between my two faves, Louis and Harry, except it's sort of more an au wherein Harry is pining after Louis and writing dodgy poems in his journal. It's kind of a sad poem tbh.
> 
> I don't own 1D (or even, clearly, any talent).

All of him should belong to me;  
And yet I have no claim on his body  
Or his heart.  
  
The whispers on his skin  
I imagine taste of salted caramel  
And liquorice;  
His hair smells of freshly ripened apples  
Just ready to fall from the tree  
And his lips seem stained with cherry blood.  
  
His is the face I see in my dreams;  
I call out in the night for him but to no avail.  
  
I wish for him -  
my arms remaining empty, my heart heavy, and my eyes wet -  
I am vacant when not in his presence,  
I am alone and surrounded.  
The bed is cold on the side where he should lay  
And yet it is the same as it has always been.  
  
I shall never know his touch, his caress  
Or his sweet lips.  
I have all this love for him but it is  
Nothing he could understand.  
  
Oh! Sweet fool, he is above me.  
And I shall humbly serve at his feet.

**Author's Note:**

> the larry!poetry you never asked for and don't particularly want  
> (it's kind of pretentious in parts because in my head Harry is basically just a hipster poetry student okay leave me alone)


End file.
